


Take a chance on me

by myrish_lace



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Confessions, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Jon and Sansa Are Not Related, Jon and Sansa are residents at a medical clinic, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-21 02:48:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11348301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myrish_lace/pseuds/myrish_lace
Summary: Jon and Sansa are residents going through a rotation at a university health clinic. Sansa has a crush on Jon, and finally works up the courage to flirt with him. Her first line is a disaster, but she learns Jon feels the same way. Tyrion Lannister ships them.





	Take a chance on me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amymel86](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amymel86/gifts).



> Just a bit of fluff based on Amymel's first sentence tumblr prompt, "why do all coversations come back to sex?" 
> 
> I don't have any kind of medical background, so I apologize in advance if there are errors in the clinic setup. I tried to keep it general, and did some research about residents and rotations. 
> 
> I'm myrish-lace-love on tumblr if you'd like to say hi! :)

"Why do all conversations come back to sex?" Sansa kept a close eye on Jon as she casually leaned against the counter in the lab room. 

“Maybe because we work at a university health clinic? Bunch of young, sexually active patients?” Jon said absently, scratching the bridge of his nose.

Never had “sexually active” sounded more like a weather report.

Sansa sighed. So much for Margaery's idea of trying to get Jon to flirt with her during the few brief moments alone they got during the day. It was an unlikely idea in the first place. Jon was dialed in to his rotation as a resident.

And if she was honest, she charged through the day too. Making rounds, ordering tests, pouring over the results.  Having fraught conversations with people who had serious medical conditions. The hours flew by, and she was usually asleep two minutes after her head hit her pillow. 

Yep, the hours flew by. Not so much, though, that she was immune to how handsome Jon was in his lab coat.  
  
“Sansa, could you come look at this?” Jon was frowning at his computer screen.  
  
Any excuse to get closer to her clueless, gorgeous coworker.  
  
Sansa clicked through the images. "It's the new flu strain, all right."  
  
Jon rubbed his chin. “So we're probably in for a wave of it then.”  
  
Sansa nodded. “Looks like it. Overtime, in our future.”  
  
It meant more time with Jon, at least. Time she refused to waste pining over him.  
  
“Thanks Sansa.” Jon pushed his glasses up his nose and smiled at her. Sansa felt her knees go weak.

 _He_ _adjusts_ _his_ _glasses_ _and_ _you_ _can't_ _handle_ _it_? 

But they're hot doctor glasses, she thought.  
  
Yeah, right. They'd have that label if she took them off. Embossed right on the side.  
  
Nope, she was just a goner.  
  
She took a deep breath. "So um, would you like to go out for coffee with me sometime when we're both free?"  
  
She had to be specific. Last time, when she'd tentatively asked Jon if he could go for coffee he'd smiled and taken off. He came back five minutes later with her favorite drink from Starbucks and slipped it into her hand without a word.  
  
She'd stood there with the latte in her hand at the front desk, unaware of the crowded hallway. Thwarted again.

It took a nurse tapping her pointedly on the shoulder to get her to snap out of it. 

Today, hopefully, she'd been crystal clear.

Jon paused. Sansa could hear her heart pounding in her chest. She'd never believed that was actually a thing, until she met him. 

"I'm not good at this, Sansa," he said softly, and her stomach sank.  
  
"No worries, I get it, it was just an idea. Forget I said anything." She'd made her move, he'd turned her down, and they had overtime to spend together in the next few weeks.  
  
Outstanding.  
  
She grabbed her charts and was about to head to her 3:30 when Jon spoke again.  
  
“No, Sansa, wait, please, if you could?” She was surprised to see Jon was flushed.

Couldn't he just let her slink off and be embarrassed? She wasn't a baby, she could deal with it. 

Then she saw Jon fiddle with his pen. He only did that when he was nervous. She'd picked that up. You know, in passing.  Like how she knew he was an early riser and biked to work and treated their most frustrating patients with gentleness and-  
  
Ugh, this was pathetic.  
  
“Yes Jon?” She kept her voice bright. “What's up?” _Why are you putting me through this?_  
  
"I’m - I'm not good at dating people casually."

She'd been about to launch into another line about how it was no big deal when he drew her up short. 

"I couldn't date you casually, because...." He met her eyes. "Because I really care about you. You make people laugh and you showed me the ropes when we started and you're kind and you're headed to being a huge success, I'd bet money on it. I'm just a guy. Just a guy who will cross paths with you for a few months and then you'll be off, on another rotation, and this is really selfish, but it would hurt too much, to be near you and get to know you better and fall for you even harder and then watch you leave."  
  
Sansa blinked.  It took her a minute to absorb Jon’s speech. She'd never heard him say so many words at once.

_Fall for me even harder?_

That had taken courage, on his part, she thought. And now, she had reason to believe they might be on the same page.

 _Take it easy with him._ "Wow. We've already dated and I've already left you behind and we haven't even started? Look, you're smart too, Jon, you are, stop shaking your head, it's true, and nothing's for certain. We know that."

They did, better than most. Sometimes the bad news they had to deliver was devastating.

Sansa remembered how Jon hadn't asked her any questions, just put his arm around her, after she'd had to tell that young man Willas that his spine was damaged, and he likely wouldn't walk again.  
  
Jon nodded, once.  “We do. That's true.”  
  
“So…” Sansa reached for his hand, couldn't quite bring herself to take it. "Take a chance on me? While we're here? It's taken me two months to work up the courage to be really upfront about it, you know."  
  
Jon's eyes went wide. “You're serious?”

“Do you see me asking the other guys out for coffee?” She'd turned down plenty of offers, of course. Joffrey Baratheon had been especially persistent. And nasty.

Jon slowly took her hand. “No. No I don’t. Just...I need a second, Sansa, I have to unwind the knots I've worked myself into over this.”

When he looked up at her again his eyes were dark, and he was smiling.

His hand was warm, and firm, and felt like it was made for hers.

***

Dr. Tyrion Lannister caught Sansa in the hall.

“Five cases of that flu strain confirmed already. You and Jon will be putting in some long hours.”

Sansa hid her smile. “We're ready, Doctor.”

Tyrion squinted at her. “Yes, I can see you are. Had the talk then? Expect you initiated it.”

Sansa closed her mouth after a minute.

“Hardly the first workplace romance I've seen, Sansa.” He scanned and signed paperwork a nervous intern brought him without giving the girl a glance.  

“I’m supposed to warn you off. Can be bad for morale. Patients first, and all that.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

Sansa caught a glimpse of Jon out of the corner of her eye, on the way to his next appointment. Tyrion called out to him.

“Ah. Jon. Come here." He waved Jon over.   "So much less pining in the air now. We were all uncomfortable. Smelled like a forest.”

Sansa shot Jon a look that said _roll_ _with_ _it_.

“There's a broom closet in the south hallway,” Tyrion murmured as he checked his schedule. “Usually unoccupied. Might want to make a note of it.” 

Jon stared at Tyrion as he strode off.

Sansa took his hand. “Maybe coffee first?”

Jon squeezed it. “Um, yeah.”

***

The broom closet did, eventually, come in handy though.

 


End file.
